


keep it down, lucien

by aisu10



Category: Kill Your Darlings (2013)
Genre: Gen, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisu10/pseuds/aisu10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times lucien vomited on or around his friends and the smiles he gave them afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep it down, lucien

1.

it takes edie three days to find out. _three days._ lucien knows she did because the moment he opens the door to her apartment, she slaps his left cheek so hard he thinks he catches a glimpse of jack standing behind him.

"you fucking **_PUKED_** in my vase and didn't think to _**TELL ME?"**_

the room beyond her reeks of air freshener and cleaning supplies, barely veiling the stench of the _gift_ lucien had left her when he didn't make it to the bathroom on time to empty his stomach after their last night of hard drinking. her shout is somehow even harsher than the slap and lucien rubs his reddening cheek as he glances back at jack for backup.

"i have no idea what you're talking about," he says with a bemused smile that is as mocking as it is satisfied. jack rolls his eyes and _k-norcks_ him over the head.

 

2.

they're having a pretty typical night at bill's apartment sharing stories and drinks when lucien suddenly gets up and stumbles drunkenly out of the room. david wouldn't have thought much of it if he hadn't noticed how lucien's face had gone _pale_ in the middle of his sentence -- how his words, usually so easy and confident, had caught in his throat, and how his hand had clutched, claw-like, at his stomach. but he noticed -- he always notices, when it comes to lucien -- and that's why he immediately gets up and follows him to the bathroom.

through the open doorway he sees lucien hunched over the sink, hand pressed flat against his abdomen as it contracts and forces up everything he'd consumed that night -- which happens to only be chunks of _glass_ and the drink that washed them down. david watches in silent shock as from lucien's lips pours red wine and redder _blood,_ splashing and staining the pale plaster basin he clings to. david moves closer, looks over his shoulder at the shards of glass glinting in the pool of regurgitated liquid -- chewed fine but not fine enough to stop from cutting lucien's esophagus on the way back up -- and his heart constricts in horror.

lucien's hand moves from his stomach to massage his stinging throat as he winces in pain and squints at himself in the mirror. his eyes meet david's frightened ones reflected in the corner of it and his squint becomes more of a _glare_ , as if he's annoyed that david is there to witness this vulnerable moment. a memory swims to the surface of david's reeling mind; one of lucien, 12 and slender and uniformed, throwing up against a tree on a boy scout camping trip after taking a bite out of a raw fish. this reminds him of that, except lucien is much bigger now and pushes his hand away when he tries to rub his back as he had all those years ago.

"i'm fine, david. a little _vomit's_ never kept me down."

david keeps cool, hiding his worry in the curl of the fingers of his rejected hand as he lowers it back to his side.

"how about a little _blood?"_

lucien turns to him and puts on his most sardonic smile, flashing teeth dripping scarlet. there's no real humor in it; david can tell from the steel in his irises that he's forcing the walls back up, determined to shut david out before he can let himself accept his comfort.

"i said i'm _fine."_

he pushes past david to rejoin the gathering, leaving him staring down at the dark liquid trickling down the drain while lucien parades his bloody grin around the room, happy to use it to get attention from anyone who is not david.

 

3.

they're less than an hour into their latest brainstorming session when lucien's stomach rejects the drug cocktail bill had given him and he starts spewing it into the trash can he's hugging to his chest as he sits on the couch. bill sits motionlessly across from him, watching from behind his glasses as he sputters fluid into the bin. bill's seen people vomit up drugs before; sometimes the body just can't process it. he probably should have given him a portion more appropriate for his size -- but he knows lucien would have killed him for holding back.

"just get it out," bill drawls patiently.

lucien squeezes the bin tighter as a visible shudder runs through his body, signaling another wave of nausea that forces up the last of the tainted drink. when lucien finally comes up for air, saliva hanging in glistening strands from his lips, he gasps, "what was in that _tea?"_

_obviously_ he means it sarcastically, but no matter how he meant it, bill was going to respond in the same deadpan tone he always speaks in.

"benzedrine, oxycodone, vodka... and oolong."

lucien coughs and spits once more into the trash can, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. he cocks an eyebrow at bill and quips,

"must have been the _oolong."_

even the usually-stoic bill gives a huff of a laugh at that. lucien then sets the trash can aside and jumps to his feet as if nothing had happened, with a wild and brilliant grin stretched across his face that reminds bill why they're all doing this for him in the first place.

"well, i didn't throw up my _high_. let's get back to work!"

bill picks up the book he'd been reading aloud from and lucien resumes his frantic pacing, calling out ideas so energetically that bill could easily forget that he'd just been sick in a trash can in david's living room.

 

4.

allen wakes up to the sound of lucien retching and the foul smell of partially digested food and alcohol that had been fermenting in lucien's belly for hours before he vomited it all over the pillows. drops of something warm and wet sprinkle the side of his face and he jolts up quite suddenly, groping for his glasses on the bedside table so his eyes stand a chance of adjusting to the darkness. when his vision clears he finds lucien propped up by his elbows, back arched, eyes squeezed shut, hands clutching at the sheets he's currently unloading his guts upon. allen faintly recalls lucien telling him he thought he'd caught a bug before they went out drinking and allen pieces the puzzle together quite quickly after that.

lucien makes it to the toilet tonight, aided by allen who helps him to his knees just in time for him to forcibly expel the rest of his stomach's contents into the bowl and flush them away. gripping the white seat with knuckles just as pale, he tries to anchor his shaking body as he pants heavily in the aftermath of such strenuous heaving. allen crouches beside him, gingerly touching his fingers to his forehead and pushing his sweaty bangs out of the way so he can press his palm gently to the feverish skin of his forehead.

"you shouldn't have drank while sick."

lucien's only response is a weak and possibly remorseful burp, followed by the most pathetic little hiccup. allen pats his back sympathetically, hoping he's at least learned his lesson. lucien looks up at him with bloodshot eyes and despite his exhaustion still manages to offer him a feeble, crooked grin as he mumbles,

"you've got some on your..."

he gives a vague wave of his trembling fingers to indicate allen's hair, and a faint giggle slips from drool-slick lips.

"yeah, well, you've got some _everywhere,"_ allen retorts, shaking his head and trying not to think about the soiled curls hanging moist with lucien's stale puke against his cheek. at first he can't believe lucien is still smiling after all this, but then he realizes it's more of a _front_ than anything genuine, a mask to cover his weakness and trick allen into thinking he's perfectly fine. allen refuses to fall for it, and spends the rest of the night helping lucien clean off and tending to him as much as he allows him to. once the sheets are stripped and replaced and both of them have washed the puke off their hair and skin, they collapse into bed again and lucien lays his head against allen's shoulder in silent thanks. he won't speak of any of it in the morning, except to complain about the stench emanating from the bundle of soiled sheets discarded in the corner of the room.

 

5.

they stumble out of the bar at 5AM, all giggles and smiles and mumbled nonsense. jack's never seen lucien quite so drunk before and when he lurches toward him at the curb and clings to the front of his coat as if it's the only thing keeping him standing (which, frankly, it is), jack's happy to hold his friend up. that is, until the blond suddenly convulses against him and _projectile vomits_ all over his chest.

for a moment they're both stunned, standing in complete silence and staring at the oatmeal-colored mess splattered across his black coat. then lucien's lips part and jack thinks he might have something to say for himself but instead he just _belches_ right in his face and proceeds to begin _laughing_ hysterically. the burning scent of alcohol mixed with stomach acid assaults jack's nose and he wrinkles it as he groans,

" _christ,_ carr --"

jack grabs lucien by the sides of his jacket as he continues to cackle and forces him onto his hands and knees over the storm drain.

"-- puke in _there."_

lucien is clearly laughing too hard to hear the suggestion, though he heeds it just the same and heaves over and over between fits of giggles until there's nothing left inside him. as he looks at the watery barf coating the drain and the pavement and his clothes, jack's surprised there even was that much in him to begin with. it's a good thing he likes lucien more than his coat; he'd be _pissed_ if he didn't love the kid so goddamn much. but instead of giving him another slap he begins to chuckle as well and settles himself on the curb beside him, thinking he must be just as drunk as lucien to be laughing in circumstances such as these. peeling the coat off and giving it a hopeless look before tossing it aside, he snorts,

"edie's _really_ gonna kill you now."

lucien lifts his head to reveal a shit-eating, puke-stained grin that jack thinks nothing in the _world_ could wipe off his face -- not even a disastrous night like this one -- and giggles:

"maybe she'll use the _vase."_

**Author's Note:**

> no excuse for this honestly i just like to see my faves puking


End file.
